twisting to the sun and moon

REMI WARNER.

     Even though he hadn’t done much of the work, when they both laid back down onto the mattress, Remi found he was still a little out of breath. His nerves tingled pleasantly, the muscles in his shoulders seeming to melt out of the knots they’d been tied into for weeks. Months, maybe. The only thing he was missing was another hit, but another cigarette kept his mind off it, along with Delilah, who looked like she’d worked out some tension herself. Even with her hair tousled and her makeup smudged a little, she was pretty — and her smile drew one out in him as well.    “Think I been slackin’ on cardio,” he joked, bringing the cigarette to his lips for a slow drag that he exhaled toward the ceiling. The smile lingered. “Fuckin’ wore me out.”

      “I don’t want—” She paused, reassessing her words, “I think this is good as a casual thing, right? But… I also think if you want to sleep here, I wouldn’t mind. I just think…” Delilah pressed her lips together as they crawled into a slow smile, “I think too much. But yes. All of that.”

REMI WARNER.

     With Delilah on top, Remi’s job was reduced to pretty much just enjoying it, and he was — utilizing the way his hands had free rein, and the way being in his lap gave her some height. He kissed her neck, the underside of her jaw, hands gliding up her thighs and over her ass for a squeeze as he helped her move, then along her waist before wrapping around her, pulling her closer as his kisses traveled up underneath her ear. His teeth closed softly on her earlobe for a moment, a quiet pant of pleasure escaping him that she probably wouldn’t have heard otherwise.

     His kisses were electric, pleasurable shockwaves radiating from every place his lips touched. She kept up her pace and position, finding it to be just right, in that she could already feel that volcano bubbling up, almost ready to erupt. A sharp inhale followed when he gently bit her earlobe, her grip on him tightening as the action sent more shivers down her spine. His sigh, the heat, the way it traveled along her skin, reassuring her he was enjoying it just as much as she was. 

REMI WARNER.

   “Yes ma’am.” They were sideways on the bed, so Remi laid on his back and reached over his head down toward the floor, stretching as he felt around blindly with his fingertips on the floor, around where he thought he’d dropped the other condom earlier when he’d freed it from the first. “Don’t lemme fall,” he warned Delilah jokingly, pleased when he touched and managed to grab onto something flat, square, and plastic. He waved his other hand around until she took it, then hauled himself back up with her help, sticking the corner of the packaging into his mouth and ripping it open with his teeth. After freeing his hands for a moment to put it on, he wrapped his arms around her waist, capturing her lips in a kiss as she lifted her hips enough to sit on him properly, her warmth encapsulating him once more in a fresh surge of bliss.

     Everything had been so fun; their escapades were continuously punctuated by breathy fits of laughter between moans and sighs, and Delilah thought it was quite possible this was one of the best nights she’d ever had. She’d never felt so connected to someone outside of her family, which formed a certain discomfort in her chest that she chose to ignore for more pleasant sensations. Like this. 

REMI WARNER.

   “Kay.” A mischievous smile played on his lips and shone in his eyes as she buried her face in his neck, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. “Y’wanna be on top?” Remi didn’t wait for a response, laughter creeping into his voice as he flipped her onto her stomach on the mattress and positioned himself behind her. “Y’want it like this?” More laughter as he turned her onto her back again and grabbed hold of her ankle, draping her leg over his shoulder. “Like that?” He shrugged her leg off and pulled her into his lap so they both were sitting, facing each other, his smile long since transformed into a full-fledged grin. “Yes? No?”

REMI WARNER.

     After what they’d just done, every nerve in his body felt sensitive, every touch doubled or even tripled in intensity — and without the condom on, Delilah’s mouth felt better than the rest of her. Her lips, her tongue, the light suction when she drew her head back, and—    “Oh—” A stronger burst of pleasure caught him off guard as she took him deeper, surprise drawing a louder moan out of him, his voice half gone with his breath when he spoke to her again. “Y’keep this up much longer ‘n I’m’onna need another break ‘fore y’can try ‘ny other stuff.”

      His moans pleased her, and the fact that he was warning her to stop if she wanted other stuff did so even more. It wasn’t as though she thought she’d be bad at it, mostly because she’d never even bothered to think about how she’d be in bed in general. So far, it seemed like she was getting rave reviews, and between how attractive she found him, and the fun they were having, she was flying high. 

REMI WARNER.

     One more drag and the cigarette was spent. Remi stretched his arm out, squinting at what he was doing as he tried to reach the glass on the nightstand without disturbing Delilah’s explorative foray into oral sex. Maybe she wanted to return the favor. Maybe it was one of the things she genuinely wanted to try. He didn’t have any complaints either way. With a little flick, he managed to land the filter in the little murky splash of water, settling back into place so he could devote all his focus to her and the way her mouth felt wrapped around him. His hand wandered into her hair, fingers threading into it, and he was watching her now, lips parting for a soundless gasp at the faint vibration that accompanied her hum.

REMI WARNER.

     So much for a water break. Desire bloomed anew somewhere deep in his abdomen, blood rushing down, a soft gasp escaping him when he felt the warm drag of Delilah’s tongue. He’d been watching her, but he let his head drop back onto the pillow, his eyes falling shut, the sensation sending a pulse of enjoyment through him.    “Y’can try whatever the fuck y’want,” he said, voice breathy with a hint of laughter and more than a hint of pleasure. Blindly bringing the cigarette to his lips again, he took another deep drag, the smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth as he exhaled. “I like this.”

REMI WARNER.

     Contentedly smoking his cigarette that she’d handed back to him, Remi watched her smile and listened to her speak, laughing along with her when she broke off her line of questioning to talk about her sheets.

   “I don’t think ya really wanna hear about… other…” He got distracted, his concentration settling on her as her lips traveled slowly toward dangerous territory, her hand gliding over his skin, accompanying the line of kisses. Overbearing mother. It’d been a long time since Remi had wondered what his own would have been like, and he had no room to now, either, the thought gone before it even fully formed. She’d asked him another question.

   “I dunno… All of ‘em? Unless it’s some gymnastics shit ‘cause—” he laughed again, amusement shining in his eyes, “I ain’t that flexible.” Drugs and sex. Why pick a favorite when all of them were great in so many different fucking ways?

REMI WARNER.

   “Woman after my own heart,” Remi responded, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he returned her lustful gaze with about the same amount of unveiled desire. Flopping back down on the bed, he tossed his cigarettes onto the nightstand, closely followed by his lighter once he’d lit the one perched between his lips.

     The first drag was sublime, the perfect thing to top off the last hour, and he savored it, exhaling slowly and then taking another deep one.    “Gonna need an ashtray, tho’.” Passing her the cigarette, he got up again — for what he hoped was the last time in a while. “Don’t go ‘nywhere,” he joked, making his way back down the hallway until he found her kitchen. His first guess of above the sink led him to a collection of glasses, saving him from having to open and shut a million cabinets, and he picked out one of the ones he thought looked the most everyday use-y, filling it with a splash of water from the sink.

     When he returned, he offered it to her to tap ash into, then placed it on the nightstand next to his pack, assuming he’d be doing most of the smoking anyway.    “’Ny better?” he asked, laying back down. “This ‘s, what? Third time you’ve smoked my cigarettes? ‘N ya haven’t liked it once yet. ‘S still the same brand, sorry to tell ya.”

     The beam on her face didn’t leave for even one second, not even when he left to go to the kitchen, and especially not when he asked her what she thought of his cigarettes. “They’re terrible!” She laughed, tapping the ash off into the glass he’d gotten from her kitchen. It wasn’t anything special; not that she kept anything special in the kitchen. Most at her mother’s request, Delilah owned a china cabinet, and it contained all her more precious dishes. The kinds that came out when she had dinner parties for co-workers, or, when she was in school, professors and peers. Before that, her mother owned it, and they were presented whenever she had a new suitor in mind for her daughter. Briefly, Delilah’s smile faltered as she wondered what her mother might think of Remi. And then she looked at him, and it came right back, because who cared what her mother had to say about her life anyway?

REMI WARNER.

   “Yeah I wanna fuckin’ do it again.” Remi broke into a grin. He couldn’t see hers with his eyes closed, but he could hear it in the warmth in her voice. “’N I definitely wanna fuckin’ smoke.” So before he had time to get any lazier and even more content, he got up, pausing to kiss her before he rose from the bed and slipped into the bathroom. He discarded the condom in a small trashcan he found next to the sink, cleaned himself up, then returned to his pants on the bedroom floor, digging his cigarettes out of the front pocket. “In ‘ere?” he asked, turning to her, his brows bouncing up with the question. “Kitchen? Or y’got a balcony ‘r somethin’?”

     Her smile was unrestrained and she stretched her arms above her head as she fell back against the pillows, her lips stretching further as she let out a heavy, contented sigh. He’d disappeared into the bathroom and she continued basking in the euphoria, her mind emptied of every possible concern or worry, and it was as if some part of her had been carried away to some higher state of being, leaving her comfortable, here, on this bed, with a gorgeous man. Not only did she feel sexy, but she felt powerful, a pleasantly tingling surge spreading outward from her chest. 

REMI WARNER.

     Another smile in the wake of her compliment, and he gave himself over to the act again, desire and gratification building until it bordered on unbearable, every nerve in his body impelling him to pick up the pace and see it through. Delilah sounded and felt like she was on track to meet him there, their moans intermingling as they pressed each other closer, grasping at whatever parts of the other they could reach.

     Pleasure shot through him like lightning, electrifying every muscle south of his fucking ribcage, and Remi really couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an orgasm as good, warm bliss overwriting every bit of tension that had been lingering in him for too long as he rolled onto his back next to her on the mattress.

   “Shit,” he said, catching his breath, “’m really fuckin’ glad we left the bar.”

     Delilah had never been so relaxed in her entire life, warmth pulsing as it spread through her body, and she let her eyes close when he laid down next to her, allowing herself to savor what she’d just experienced. Frankie had mentioned something about actually getting off in the past, and until now, Delilah had no idea what she’d been talking about. Now, she was pretty sure she’d done it more than once, pleasantly recalling the way her body had left her control, how it sparked and exploded into colors brighter than she’d ever seen. She was… happy, euphoric, and somehow, even though she’d never had problems with confidence before, it increased. Delilah Khatri had never felt so sexy in her entire life. 

REMI WARNER.

     He felt her come, and the breathy laugh that rolled up his throat was more pleasure and satisfaction than amusement as he slowed his pace, letting her ride it out before building back up again. His body was buzzing — pleasantly, for a change — and he was sure he had another in him for her, his hand leaving her thigh to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple. Letting go, it traveled further, encircling one of her wrists so he could pin it against the pillow above her head, slowing his hips again slightly to go in a deeper, smoother tempo.

     Syrupy gratification trickled through his veins, undulating in molten waves, and he leaned down to kiss her, deeply.    “Y’feel really good.” His voice was a murmur, hazel eyes opening to meet hers for a moment before they closed again as a low moan escaped him.

     His laugh brought a different kind of satisfaction, something akin to happiness, and her own lips curbed into a smile to match. Delilah didn’t necessarily believe in love; she’d never really seen any proof of it. Romance seemed like a nice story, and marriage an arrangement. Companionship was better than dying alone. Life was better when one had someone by their side to weather the inevitable storms. She wasn’t stupid. She knew this wasn’t love, but fuck — there really wasn’t another word for it — it felt like it could be. This was the best she’d felt… in her entire life. Thoughts gave way to volcanic explosions of absolute bliss, liquifying her very essence into nothing but nerves and gasps and moans.       Not just hers but his, and she’d never heard anything like it, like she was infusing him with the same exaltation that it had nowhere to go but to trickle out between labored breaths. The others hadn’t been like that either; quick grunts and forceful thrusts as if there was some sort of race to be won. Not Remi. Remi took it — to what felt like almost excruciatingly — slow for a bit, and she loved every second. 

REMI WARNER.

     The passion with which she was wrapping herself around him, grabbing him, kissing him, made him smile again — buried a second later in another kiss, and she felt really fucking good. One of his hands dropped to her thigh, keeping her leg in place as he thrust deeper, urged on by her hands on his ass; the other found a grip on the headboard of her bed, curling around the edge of whatever expensive fucking wood.

     Delilah felt like warm silk around him, amped up to a thousand with the help of his favorite fucking chemicals, and it was a full body fucking experience, further enhanced by the release of the electric tension that had built up between them in the… what? Three times they’d met? Had he wanted to fuck her that first time he’d run into her on the street just outside and just not been aware of it? He knew he’d wanted to the second time, at that club, and the third, well… All in all, not a very long wait, but there’d been something forbidden about it that had made it hotter. There was something, still, a little, only — I’ve fucking moved on, he reminded himself sternly. Fuck her. Fuck that. And he was fucking Delilah, and she was tight, and soft, and fucking sexy, drawing another moan out of him as he placed more kisses on her neck, and on her lips, when she turned her head to catch his.

     Delilah thought — for the moment she could even form one — if this was the stuff books would’ve been written about. If this was the secret undertone to every one of those surface level romantic films. She wondered if this was why it was so illegal? Because how could anyone resist this? And then they’d have children everywhere, with different mothers and fathers, disjointed families everywhere. Remi had used a condom; another illegal factor, and it was one she was, of course, thankful for since she had no plans of making a family with a man she’d met only three times. Only three times and the tension between them had been electric. Even when she’d thought he was married, she felt it, especially that night at the bar: the tingle of possibility. And the possibility had definitely not disappointed. 

REMI WARNER.

     A smile tugged at his lips as he kissed his way back up her torso, still moving with sharp gasps of breath that were gradually becoming calmer.    “Good?”

     He kissed her neck, too, devoting attention to every part of her body – then his lips found hers, and she still kinda tasted like strawberries, he thought, even though he was sure by how he mostly tasted like her.      It’d been ages — or what felt like it — since he’d worn a condom, but he’d brought a couple tonight, because… well, this. Desire burned through him with a more intense warmth than what he’d taken earlier, and he didn’t even look at what he was doing as he ripped the packaging open and put it on, quick with practice and busy kissing her.

REMI WARNER.

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REMI WARNER.

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REMI WARNER.

     Delighted and a little surprised that she’d agreed, he rose, bringing her hand and then the rest of her with him, looping his arms around her for a second from behind as he ducked his head to speak into her ear so she’d hear him.    “Your place cool?”      She turned her head to say yes and he let go, keeping hold of her hand as he weaved them through the crowd and back toward the entrance, eyes dipping to his phone screen in quick flashes as they went, texting for a car so he wouldn’t have to drive.

     He stole more kisses in the backseat, his hand on her jaw, her hip, her thigh, and when the door to her apartment closed behind them a while later he picked her up, blindly letting her guide him to her bedroom in small increments between their lips glued together. Sitting on the edge of her mattress, bringing her down on top of him, Remi tugged his shirt off and discarded it somewhere on the floor, only breaking away for a second.

     His hands slid along her thighs, pushing her dress up with them, and her skin was as soft as her lips, and she smelled really fucking good, and his fingers dug in a little, pulling her closer. Intoxicated and intoxicating mixed into an even better feeling, and he pulled her dress over her head, then unclasped her bra one-handed before laying her down on the bed, situating himself between her legs; leaning down for another kiss.

     It felt like a dream; Delilah had never experienced want like this. When he touched her in the backseat, her set her skin alight, electricity shooting down and gathering between her thighs. She wasn’t sure when it was exactly they’d made their way into her apartment, but then he was picking her up — so in control — and she was kissing him with a type of hunger she hadn’t known she was even capable of. She breathed out a soft moan when he his hands ran up along her thighs, and she was lifting her arms to help him discard her dress, her skin hot against her own. 

     Delilah had never wanted anyone this much in her entire life. Every past encounter felt like a transaction; a clumsy, inexperienced dance done out of necessity rather than passion. Passion was all she’d ever wanted. It seemed like a faraway dream; the kind of aspiration everyone dreamed of but few achieved. Is this what she’d been missing all along?